


The Definition of Insanity

by WhatSoMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Annoyed Hermione Granger, F/M, Pining Draco Malfoy, draco malfoy is looking for love, he thinks he finds it in hermione granger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29294961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatSoMalfoy/pseuds/WhatSoMalfoy
Summary: Draco Malfoy falls in love with almost every woman he meets, it is an annoying habit he wishes to be rid of. However, the only way to find true love is to let himself fall - over and over again. What was the definition of insanity, again?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32
Collections: Dramione Valentine Exchange





	The Definition of Insanity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dirtymudblood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtymudblood/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneValentineExchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneValentineExchange) collection. 



> Written for the Dramione Valentine Exchange, I may have slightly exceeded the recommended word count of a drabble. Nevertheless, I couldn't resist with a prompt from City & Colour. To dirtymudblood, I hope you like it! Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> Thank you to a wonderful beta! 
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
> "See I've been known to fall in love  
> But sometimes love just is not enough"  
> \- Forgive Me, City & Colour

Draco Malfoy had been in love before. In fact, he had been in love so many times that he couldn't keep count of the faces, let alone the names. His friends had a long-running joke that he fell in love with every pretty little thing on two legs, and well, they weren't entirely wrong. He fell fast, and he fell hard. He showered women all over the world in gifts, dates and his dazzling smile, had his way with them and somehow, promptly lost interest. It was an annoying habit that he wished to break—if only he could figure out how. The only reasonable course of action was trial and error—and that was exactly how he got himself into the same mess over and over. What was the definition of insanity again?

* * *

Draco entered a charity event held in a drab ballroom at the Ministry. He attended these things on a semi-regular basis, just to keep his head in the game, so to speak. Half-hearted decorations were strewn throughout the room and the wine offered at the bar was subpar. If the event planning was anything to go by, Draco would have expected there to be minimal people in attendance. As it happened, the party appeared to be escalating into a full-blown rager. Witches and wizards of a similar age to him crowded the dance floor and clustered in groups engaging in loud conversations. Draco couldn't help but wonder what the big draw was. Nothing about the event seemed particularly special—even the cause—something to do with the near extinction of Gringwart Goffs—whatever the fuck they were.

And then the crowd parted and he saw them. The famous fucking Golden Trio. Potter, just as rumpled as ever—his years of fame hardly improving his sense of style or grooming habits. Weasley, legs still too tall for his body, garish red hair about three inches too long and the freckles on his face far from faded, and Granger— _huh_. Granger, now _she_ was different. In fact, with her curls swept back from her face and falling down her back; with the way that shimmering white dress clung to her petite form—well, Draco could suddenly guess as to why the room was overwhelmingly male this evening. Surely, it was the Golden Girl with the will to save the world and the lacklustre skills to plan a decadent event. 

Still, he was on a mission to break his routine—and even though his heart was already falling, he let his brain lead him across the room.

* * *

It had been three months. Three _miserable_ months since Draco had last had sex. Granger was still refusing him. He'd donated—generously—to any and all of her charities. He'd sent chocolates, flowers, fruit baskets, books and perfumes. She'd either sent them back or rejected them all, according to his accountant and sources at the Ministry. He didn't know what else to do. He was using all of the tricks available to him, and the witch still wouldn't even so much as have dinner with him. 

He would have to talk to her in person. Convince her that he was a changed man. A man who only wanted to treat her as she deserved to be treated—like a queen. Resolved, he made an appointment with her under a pseudonym with the claim that he wanted to hold a benefit for whatever cause she deemed most worthy—she being the expert on all of that nonsense. 

So, at precisely two in the afternoon on a Friday, Draco Malfoy waltzed into Hermione Granger's office on the fourth floor of the Ministry of Magic. Her reaction was precisely what he'd imagined, if not what he'd hoped for. 

"Oh for fu—sod _off_ , Malfoy. I don't have time for you. I have an appointment," she said from her seat, her hand thrust out in front of her, pointing him back out the door.

"Yes, Granger, I know. It's with me," he said, settling himself down into the seat opposite her. 

Hermione openly gaped at him for a few moments before glancing back down at her schedule. Irritation bloomed in the most lovely colour over her face as she put two and two together. 

"Adonis Drago. Hilarious and so inventive. I hope you came prepared to pitch something great to me, Malfoy because I don't have time for flowers and chocolates today." She reclined in her chair and waved her hands in front of her in a gesture for him to get the ball rolling.

"Why won't you accept my invitation to dinner, Granger?"

"Because you're a selfish, egotistical prick, with a womanising reputation and a history of being an absolute troll to me. I think that about covers it, don't you?"

"What if I told you I had changed?" He offered, fighting the smirk that threatened to tug on his lips. 

"I'd say that the proof is in the pudding," she countered.

"Then let's go get some," he quipped, not bothering to stifle his signature expression. 

His chair scraped along the floor as he stood and offered his hand to her. Hermione made no move to accept it. 

"It's not going to be that easy, Malfoy," she told him, her arms crossed over her midsection.

His temper was starting to get the better of him now, he could feel the blush rising to his cheeks, and the irritation colouring his tone as he said his next words. " _None_ of this has been _easy_ , Granger. You're the most disagreeable woman on the planet. You've refused every single advance I have made so far."

"All _you've_ done is have some floozy assistant send me standard gifts, Malfoy. Why would I accept anything like that from someone who hates me? What possible motivation could you have? You don't even _know_ me!"

Draco didn't know what to say to that. Maybe she had a point. Instead, he blustered about for a moment, flitting around her room and taking in the things that decorated it. Her Order of Merlin; First Class. Her graduation diploma from Hogwarts. Pictures of her with Potter, Weasel and the She-Weasel. Various other achievements and photos adorned the walls of her small office and he realised—maybe she was right. Maybe he didn't know her at all—maybe he was being a fool. Perhaps he _was_ an arrogant, egotistical prick—more so than he had realised.

He flopped back into the visitor's chair with less grace than he cared to admit. He carded his fingers through his perfectly styled hair and huffed a sigh. 

"Maybe you're right," he admitted to her. "I guess I don't really know you at all. But is it enough for now that I want to?"

Hermione considered him for a moment, canting her head to the side.

" _Why_ do you want to get to know me, Malfoy?"

"Because I think you're the most beautiful witch I've ever seen," he said. He saw her eyebrows furrow and a retort forming on her lips. He continued before she had the chance to give voice to it. "Because I think you're clever and accomplished. You have a life—a _real_ life, things you're passionate about... and if I'm truly honest, the fact that you have said no _so_ many times, _really_ makes me want you to say yes, at least once."

The dark look on her face disappeared, replaced with something more like intrigue. 

"I'm still not convinced, Malfoy. How can I know that these aren't the same pretty words you use to get to all of the _disagreeable_ witches?"

"You can't be sure, Granger—but they aren’t. I'll even throw in a few more you. Offer you some honesty that I've only just come to see myself."

She quirked her right eyebrow at him, an invitation to continue.

"You see, I've been known to fall in love before. I'm coming to terms with the fact that maybe it wasn't love after all—but even if it was, maybe sometimes love just isn't enough." 

Something about what he said must have rung true for Hermione because suddenly she was smiling. A small smile, a shy smile, a sweet smile. A smile that bloomed like hope in his frantically beating heart. 


End file.
